


Start Die Rewind

by amalrukia



Series: Strange world [2]
Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Multiple Deaths, Multiple Timelines, Other, Really dark, can be understood better if read after Polarized, nightmare max
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-19
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-06-09 10:06:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6901558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amalrukia/pseuds/amalrukia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She thought that Chloe was meant to die, however, she realized that maybe Fate was after her instead, trying to stop her existence in every possible timeline. Or the four times Max died, and the one time she didn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The first time fate cut the thread was in a stormy day.

She woke up in the middle of the storm, lying on the road that led to the lighthouse. Her memory was fuzzy. She found trouble recalling how she got here.

“How did I get here? And where is here?” She thought as she got up and turned around looking for a shelter. Her eyes were drawn to the reassuring light coming from the lighthouse.

She walked towards it using her arm to shield herself from the harsh wind. She kept stumbling. Her body was weak and it almost felt drugged.

That was when she started to remember, and realized how she got here.

Mark Jefferson, her teacher and idol brought her here.

His warm and reassuring presence was nothing but an illusion.

This was the worst week of her life. It started with Nathan Prescott shooting a girl in the school’s bathroom, and that girl turned out to be Chloe Price, her former best friend that she left behind. The next day, Kate Marsh jumped off the dormitories’ roof, and the responsible for the tragedy remained free.

Mark Jefferson killed Rachel Amber and Kate Marsh and his last victim was Max Caulfield.

This was a universe where her powers were never triggered. She never saw the blue butterfly. She never truly reunited with Chloe. She never tried to convince Kate not to jump.

Something deep inside tells her that this wasn’t how things were supposed to go. If only she went to the bathroom earlier, if she talked to Kate…

Would it have been possible to prevent all of this?

She felt the palm of her right hand itching.

“Holy shit!” She whispered at the horrifying scene once she reached her destination.

The clashing of the howling wind and the violent waves sounded like the growl of a monster. The tornado was so gigantic that she could’ve sworn that it touched the sky.

Max felt the storm’s rage. Her whole body shook as she watched it approaching arcadia bay. Her home. She wanted to yell at it and distracting from destroying it, but her voice didn’t come out.

Chloe was there, in a coma and Joyce was with her and the storm was going to swallow them.

A flying boat snapped her from her thoughts as it collided with the lighthouse, then everything went black.

She felt a sharp pain when she woke up. A sharp piece of glass pierced her leg, and there were other parts of her body that were injured because of the impact with the glass. She inhaled sharply as she tried to move. She couldn’t go anywhere and everything was dark.

She knew she was dying. No one would find her here, and even if they do, it would be too late.

She pulled out her phone to get some light. She was shocked that the device wasn’t broken.

There was a voice message from Joyce, and she was really worried about the woman, so she opened it to hear her soothing voice. She received the message when she was captured in the dark room, and a few hours have passed since then.

_“Max, darling? Where are you? Chloe… she’s awake, can you believe it? I couldn’t reach you the whole day so I hope you hear this. She asked for you when I told her that you found her….that day. If you hear this, please answer, we’re both worried about you. There is a storm outside and I hope you’re not caught in it. Please call me Max.”_

The message ended and Max felt her insides burning up.

Chloe woke up, on the worst time ever, but she still woke up and she couldn’t reach her. She was dying and she never apologized for abandoning her.

This wasn’t fair.

She called Joyce with whatever force she still had. The phone was beeping but she couldn’t just lie and wait for her to pick up. She gripped her phone and crawled towards the exit. But the more she moved, the more the glass went deeper into her skin. She felt her leg go numb.

She couldn’t stay here, not while her home was being destroyed.

She couldn’t shake the strange feeling that took over her. The connection she suddenly felt to every part of arcadia bay, to every scream of terror and every tear drop, and she felt so alive and yet so dead and it was as if she became… the storm itself.

No, she was part of arcadia bay, as crazy as that sounded.

Her resolve was soon crushed down as her body went numb. She couldn’t move anymore.

_“Max?”_

She then heard a very familiar voice, Chloe’s voice, talking to her. She sounded weaker than she remembered.

If only she went in there a few minutes earlier, she would have prevented her from getting shot.

_“Max can you hear me? There is a hella crazy storm out there. Are you safe?”_

It was ironic that she was worried about her, even though she just woke up from a coma, and they didn’t see each other for five years.

She had plenty of regrets that she never found out until this moment, until she was dying.

“C…Chloe…” She whispered, loud enough for her to hear her. She felt her body starting to give in, so she brought the phone closer to her as a mean of comfort. “I’m sorry…”

_“W-why are you saying this? Dude, this is not the time to-“_

“I’m dying… I’m sorry.” Max said as tears ran down her face.

She regretted so much.

_“God… Max, hold on please. Where are you?”_

She could hear the pain in these words, she sounded as if she was crying. Chloe didn’t deserve to cry over someone like her.

She couldn’t reply. She was too weak to say anything.

If only she could go back in time. She would have fixed everything.

That was when she felt the strange feeling fill her again, and her eyes were focused on a blue butterfly.

How did it get in there in the middle of a storm?

She then saw some sort of vortex symbol on her palm, and it was shining so brightly.

Fate finally decided to cut the thread.

_“Max?! Please answer me! Max!”_

Max Caulfield died, and the shining butterfly flew away, to another place, to another time, and landed on a bucket in a dirty school bathroom, only to be spotted by the same dying blue eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

The second time fate cut thread was on the 7th of October.

Max woke up from a terrifying nightmare.

There was a storm, and a tornado. The last thing she remembered was the lighthouse falling on her.

It felt too real, and she felt pained and saddened, and she didn’t understand how a dream could make her feel this way.

She was sure she didn’t even fall asleep. Mr. Jefferson would have scolded her if she did.

Then what was that?

She couldn’t focus on the boring lecture, so she took a selfie instead, which of course caught everyone’s attention. What was she thinking? She really needs to keep her selfie needs in check.

She was startled when Jefferson said her name after his rambling about _selfie expression_. “Now, Max. Since you captured our interest and clearly want to join the conversation. Can you please tell us the process that gave birth to the first self-portraits?” He asked and waited for an answer while all eyes were focused on her.

 _Great, just great._ She scolded herself and tried to avoid all eyes. “Uh… you’re asking me?”

“You either know this or not!” She jumped slightly when his palm hit the desk. She was still scared from what she was and he was certainly not helping.

She ignored Victoria’s comments and sighed in relief when the bell rang.

The ringing made her heart pound even more. She just wanted to take a minute to relax before her anxiety gets the best of her. She was about to leave but the teacher stopped her.

She really did not feel like hearing his lectures right now, even if he was her favorite teacher.

“I’d never let one of photography’s future stars avoid handing in her picture.” Jefferson started, much to her dismay (and Victoria’s annoyance but who cares?).

“I didn’t have any time. Too much homework.” She said.

“Max, you’re a better photographer than a liar. Now I know it’s a drag to hear some old dude lecture you. But life won’t wait for you to play catch up…” That was when she lost all her focus on the conversation.

_Life won’t wait for you to play catch up._

Why did she feel as if she was about to suffocate upon hearing that sentence?

Thankfully, he didn’t press on the matter so she left the classroom quickly.

She stared at the student walking in the hallway, and being surrounded by so many people made her feel dizzy. She put on her earbuds and played her favorite song, hoping to decrease the anxiety building up. She took a deep breath and made her way to the bathroom.

She walked into the bathroom, put away the earbuds, and washed her face.

She stared at her reflection in the mirror. She looked pale and tired and scared. This wasn’t the face of a great photographer. This was the face of a loser.

She looked at her photo for the everyday hero contest. “Stop torturing yourself. You have a gift.” She said before looking back at her reflection. “Fuck it.” She tore the photo.

Then a butterfly flew in through the window. She could’ve sworn she saw it somewhere. She didn’t know she saw it another timeline, in a stormy day. But she knew that something about the blue butterfly drew her to it.

Something familiar.

She pulled out her camera and took a photo of it but when she did, someone walked into the bathroom. She took a peak and saw Nathan Prescott talking to himself.

She didn’t know him personally, but she had a feeling that he was trouble.

And trouble indeed started once a blue haired girl walked in.

She heard them arguing about money and drugs, but there was something distracting in there. She knew the girl’s voice and it was way too familiar.

Her heart almost stopped when she saw him pointing the gun at her.

Her whole body and mind and everything was screaming at her telling her that something was **_wrong_** and it wasn’t the fact that he was threatening someone with a gun but it was more than that.

She couldn’t let him shoot that girl, and her body moved on its own.

“NO!”

She heard the gunshot and she felt an intense pain in her chest. Nathan looked horrified by what he did while the girl looked at her shock. She clutched her chest and fell on the dirty floor.

She could heard Nathan freaking out and running.

“Holy shit! Max Caulfield?” SOMEONE PLEASE HELP!” She heard the girl’s panicked voice.

She felt an arm pulled her up and a hand pressed against hers, trying to put pressure on the wound. “Max can you hear me? It’s me, Chloe.”

Her eyes widened at her words. This was Chloe, her best friend that she left behind for five years. Her best friend who was having a terrible time and she didn’t bother to help. Her best friend that… she just happened to save.

_She saved Chloe._

She would have laughed if it wasn’t the fact that she had trouble breathing, and that she was scared shitless. She got shot, and she was probably going to die. She couldn’t even freak out.

“Don’t you fucking die! Not when you finally came back!” She felt warm tears against her skin. “Please Max…”

She lifted her hand slowly to touch Chloe’s face. She rested her palm against her wet cheek and focused on her clear blue eyes.

If Chloe’s face was going to be the last thing she was going to see… then let it be. But knowing her best friend, she would be pissed off if she died. Would she be sad? Or would she move one quickly?

She did abandon her after all.

Max knew how much she messed up, and how much of a failure she was.

The world would be better off without her, right?

The thread was cut.

Max Caulfield is dead.


	3. Chapter 3

Time was something that no one could understand or control. Something that was impossible to break. At least that’s what she thought until she started to become part of time itself.

_“All you have to do is crank up the IV to eleven.”_

She was trapped, somewhere inside, unable to break these walls made of glass. She couldn’t move or talk and her own body was out of reach as if she was possessed.

She _was_ possessed.

She was under the mercy of whoever is in control and she watched in horror as her body moved on its own and accepted the request.

She watched as Chloe Price, the person who used to be her best friend die. She killed her with her own hands.

That was when she started to notice the cracks in the glass, and she was freed from whatever possessed her.

She became a murderer. She stared at the lifeless body in horror. The first thing she did was running away before anyone finds out.

It wasn’t her fault. She didn’t do anything.

She felt sick and confused and it felt as if she was thinking and saying and doing different things at the same time and it was as if there were two persons inside.

She was seeing things that weren’t there. Having thoughts that weren’t hers.

She saw pictures-memories- burning and changing. She saw a storm and a dirty bathroom. She was on the dorms’ roof talking to someone that she should recognize but can’t. She was thirteen and she watched a picture burning and a man walk towards some sort of light.

She felt blood rushing through her nose and she was in a diner filled with people she was unable to remember.

She watched as a storm raged outside and then a sound brought her back to reality.

The last thing she saw was a car rushing towards her.

She was the third thread to be cut.

However, death didn’t mean the end. She didn’t disappear. Out of the others Maxes she was the only one to be possessed by an alternate version of herself. A version that seemed more dominant than the others. So their thoughts were merged and she was trapped in the deepest corners of her counterpart’s mind.

She saw the deaths, from storms and lighthouses and guns.

They were stuck in the same loop, one that always ends with their deaths in that week.

She felt every pain that her previous versions went through, she lived it. Therefore she was filled with nothing but hatred towards _herself_. The one who ruined her life.

Time was like glass, and once it breaks, it will bring nothing but chaos. She watched the glass walls that surrounded every corner of her counterpart’s mind break.

Max Caulfield was the thin line between the chaos and order of time, but her emotions were controlling her, her sanity was leaving her and she was starting to become Arcadia bay’s new storm.

She was standing in front of the last thread. The Max who ruined her life. Her existence might be tied to this version, but that didn’t mean that she was going to watch from a distance.

She wanted to make her suffer, for every version she left behind.

She was going to become the worst of her nightmares.

Max was tied to a chair inside the darkroom, watching helplessly as Mark Jefferson took photos of the unconscious Victoria.

 _“You chose this Max.”_ Nightmare Max said, and smirked as her counterpart stared at her with a mix of fear and confusion.   _“You go around, changing time and space, challenging fate. How many lives have you actually ruined?”_

“I… I didn’t ruin anyone’s life!” Max answered, trying to avoid the glare coming from her counterpart.

_“You killed Chloe.”_

“I didn’t kill her-“

_“You killed the Chloe from my timeline.”_

Max remained silent for a few seconds, shocked from the realization. “I didn’t want her to suffer!”

_“But you made Joyce and William suffer instead. And the only person they could blame, is ME. Not you. Who gave you the right to intervene into people’s lives?”_

She could feel Max’s pain burning into her soul, but that didn’t stop the pleasure she felt from hurting her.

She wasn’t the one who had a lighthouse falling on her. She wasn’t the one who was shot by Nathan Prescott in the bathroom. She wasn’t the one who was run over by a car.

This Max was a coward who kept escaping death.

_“Who gave you the right to play God in their lives?”_

Time stopped and broken shards of glass were everywhere.

A new storm was created.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things can get a bit confusing sometimes since this story is related to my one shot Polarized, give it a quick look for a better understanding. Broken glass represents broken time.


	4. Chapter 4

_“What did you think was going to happen?”_

Max stared at the blurry photo shaking in her hands. “Why isn’t it working?” She asked her counterpart who sat across her. The diner was now empty, unlike the reality she drifted from.

 _“It worked Dumbass.”_ Nightmare Max gave her an amused smiled. _“You did travel through the photo and jumped into a new timeline. However, whenever you use photos, you leave a version of yourself behind and you my dear, are the one left behind. Ironic, isn’t it?”_

This can’t be happening.

That was the only thought haunting the time traveler.

“I’ll just have to try again-“

 _“And you will get the **same** result.” _The nightmare cut her words and leaned closer, her eyes as hard as steel. _“People are meant to die, Max. It is part of life. How long would it take you to learn that?”_

“I can’t just watch people die when I know I can change it!” Max’s voice became higher with every word. “Why would I get these powers if they were for nothing?”

 _“Well, life sucks. End of the story!”_ Her counterpart’s palms slammed against the table in anger and frustration. _“You’re not a fucking hero! You’re just a brat who never learns from her mistakes! Do you want to know how this will end? You will die again! It is the same thing over and over!”_

“What do you mean?” Max’s voice lost it’s force, and it was replaced with confusion.

 _“You start, you die, and then you rewind. You are stuck in the same loop. You always end up dying.”_ Her other self explained and felt satisfied when she saw the despair in her mirrored eyes. _“Look at the storm heading towards Arcadia bay. You broke time and caused it. If you were dead, this would have never happened.”_

“You’re lying!” Max’s anger came back, as she yelled at her reflection. The storm can’t be her fault. She wasn’t responsible for it. She did everything to help others, so why was she portrayed as the villain? “I saw the storm before I even got my powers!”

 _“It is because there are two storms. The first one didn’t come for some reason, but the second was created when you broke time in the dark room.”_ The nightmare smirked at her and leaned back in her chair. _“How does it feel? To know that so many innocent lives will be taken away by you?”_

Max’s vision blurred as she started to come back to reality, and instead of her reflection’s smirking face, it was Warren who was looking at her with concern.

“So, what is supposed to happen?” He asked, confused and scared. The storm and the revelation of her powers were a bit too much for him.

Max came her to use the photo to warn Chloe and stop Jefferson, but here she was, surrounded by people she was trying to save, only to cause their deaths because she couldn’t keep her emotions in check.

“I… it didn’t work.” She answered honestly and looked down in shame.

“Oh.” Warren looked at her with pity before watching the storm through the window. “We can still reach the shelters before it comes. You’re not a super hero, Max. You did everything you could.” He gave her an encouraging smile and she just stared at him with a mix of sadness and surprise.

Warren was comforting her, even though she knew he was scared.

David was still in the Dark room investigating, and even Nathan was helping in his own way.

And in another timeline, the version who left her behind was trying to fix this mess.

She couldn’t stop now, even if it meant that she will end up dying like her counterpart said.

She stood up, startling the boy. “I am going to fix this.”

“Max, you can’t stop a storm!” He followed her.

“I am the _only_ one who can stop this storm!” She turned to him, and saw that he wanted to stop her, but she wasn’t going to give him the chance.

She stopped time and this time it came so easy to her. She could see the cracks in the air, the glass at ever corner. She had to fix this.

She sighed and ran towards the storm, ignoring her bleeding nose.

What could Chloe say to her if she was here? She’d probably try to convince her that this wasn’t her fault. That this wasn’t her responsibility. But Chloe wasn’t here. She was killed.

No one else was going to die because she was reckless. Never again.

She stopped at the beach and stared at the horrifying tornado. It all felt like a Déjà vu, maybe it was. Maybe she faced the storm and ended up dying.

She tried to collect her thoughts and find a way to stop it.

Her powers would usually do something when she needed them, but there was nothing.

What was she thinking? Coming all the way here without a plan?

How could time travel stop a giant tornado?

 _“You never listen, do you?”_ She turned to face her alternate self, who stood there with crossed arms and an indifferent expression. _“What are you going to do?”_

“I…” Max started, but her resolve died as she stared helplessly at the storm. “I don’t know.”

 _“You’re so pathetic. I can’t believe we are the same person.”_ Nightmare Max mocked her, and her expression became more amused as she watched her enemy about to break down. _“It always ends with a thread.”_

“When did the first storm disappear?” Max asked suddenly, which caught her other self off guard.

 _“I don’t know.”_ The nightmare answered, but then she decided to test a theory. It might be a helpful one, but it was still a way to destroy her counterpart. _“Actually, I sensed something was off in the dark room, well, aside from you fucking up time and space. The dark room might be the key to the storm. But that’s only a thought. I could be wrong because things got mixed up with the second storm.”_

Max’s eyes widened. “What do you mean something was off? When?!”

Nightmare smirked, then pressed her finger against her forehead before starting to disappear. _“I’m afraid I can’t stick for longer. I’m going to join the other you who left you in this situation, it can’t be helped that I can only be connected to one version.”_

“You can’t just leave now!” Max yelled at her, and the desperation was obvious in her voice. “Tell me! What stopped the first storm!”

Nightmare Max only smiled. _“See you in hell.”_

The time traveler was left behind.

She kept repeating what happened in the dark room in her head. She was being photographed by Mark Jefferson, then he was going to kill her. As luck would have it, Nathan was there, and he brought David with him. Jefferson and David were fighting, and the teacher was reaching for the gun and…

Realization hit her.

Her counterpart pointed to her forehead, which was the same place where the bullet went through.

That was where she shot Mark Jefferson.

Max looked at the palm of her hand, and for some reason, she wasn’t surprised by the vortex mark that appeared on it, as if she saw it before.

Maybe in another time, in another place.

“I have to stop him, to stop the storm. Is that it?” She asked herself, trying to muster up her courage. What she was going to die was a risky move, but if it worked, it would stop both storms. “I’m asking you to help me, one last time.” She referred to her powers then looked at the tornado before lifting her rewind hand.

This was it. This was her last chance.

The world became nothing but a blur of voices and memories replaying in reverse. The red liquid was dripping on her face, and her whole body was being crushed by the weight of the rewind.

She was going to rewind as far as she could and prevent this from happening.

She relived the last hours, from the diner to the dark room to the junkyard.

And then she stopped and she fell on her knees, grasping her chest and trying to breath. Her body felt numb from all the pressure. She looked around and found herself in the same spot, except it was a sunny day, not an apocalyptic one.

What caught her eyes, was a truck in the distance, and two teenagers walking towards a RV.

The two teenagers were Chloe, and _herself_.

They were there for Frank’s client list.

Max closed her eyes and tried to calm herself, to accept what just happened. This rewind didn’t take her back to her previous self, she went back whole and now there were two Maxes in the same place.

What would happen next was obvious.

But maybe it was for the best.

She took her phone and sent a text to David about the dark room. She didn’t bother to delete it.

She pretended not to notice the cracks in her body. She pretended that she didn’t care about her fate.

It always ends with death, but this death wasn’t in vain. This Max Caulfield might disappear, but the one currently talking to Frank will stay, will live, and grow old. Chloe won’t die, and Jefferson will be in jail.

Few hours later, there was nothing but dust where she was sitting.

Another thread was cut, and the storm never came.


End file.
